by Harloe Rae
“Give me a hug, Mills.” I beckon her into my chest.
She leaps toward me, throwing her arms around my waist. “Love you, Mama. Remember to have fun.”
“I love you the most, sweetie. Be good for Alice and Barry.”
She breaks from my embrace and reaches for Alice’s hand. “I always am.”
“Millie is always on her best behavior,” the older woman agrees.
“Thanks again for letting her stay with you.”
She scoffs at me as she lets Millie lead her away. “It’s my pleasure, Keegan. Enjoy yourself. An evening out with other adults is much deserved.”
“Thank you,” I repeat.
I wave at them as they pile into Alice’s car and drive away. Josey is at my side, sending them off with me. A sharp lash rips at my insides, causing me to suck in a harsh breath. I can count on one hand the number of nights Millie has spent away from me. Gulping down the knob in my throat is a feat, but muted sniffles shortly follow.
Josey pokes my side. “All right, mama bear. Chin up. We’re going to have fun.”
I muster a smile.
“Starting now.” Josey produces a bottle of champagne from who knows where and drags me into the kitchen. She pours bubbly into two flutes sitting on the counter and hands me one. “Cheers!”
I clink our glasses together. “Salute!”
After she enjoys a few sips, her eyes laser in on me. “So, you’re really passing on Ford?”
I groan, long and low. “Not him again.”
“But why not him?”
“Seriously, Joe? He’s too intense and unpredictable. Feral. I need someone reliable and level-headed.”
“That’s a little judgy, don’t you think?”
“That man deserves my judgment after how he treated me.” I cross my arms, the low neckline of my dress showing off more of me with the shift. I’m leaving little to the imagination. Not that Josey is checking out my rack. But I do have nice boobs, if I say so myself. I shake off the random train of thought. “He’s arrogant and beyond rude and seems to hate me.”
She shrugs, inspecting her manicure. “Maybe it’s a front.”
I blow out a puff of air. “If he’s trying to chase off the entire female race above the age of seven, mission accomplished.”
“Millie loves him.”
“Precisely my point.”
“You should take her opinion into consideration.” She guzzles the last of her champagne and refills her flute, topping mine off as well.
“And yours, apparently. Since when are you all gung-ho about Ford?”
Josey perks at me over the rim of her glass. “He’s a wild card. I think he deserves another chance.”
I roll my eyes. “Not interested.”
“Liar.”
“Call me what you want. It won’t change how I feel.” I glance at the setting sun through the bay window. “Should we be going?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” She shoves a pair of sky-high heels at my chest. “Here, wear these. They match your dress.”
I inspect a bedazzled stiletto. To her credit, the shoes compliment my glittery attire extremely well. “I don’t know why I’m ever surprised at what you pull out of thin air.”
“Me, either. I’m going all in for this. We’re painting the town scarlet red tonight.”
“That’s a very specific shade.” I slip on the heels, giving myself a lazy appraisal in the hallway mirror. “Not bad. Okay, let’s get this over with.”
She grips my elbow, halting my retreat. “Hey.”
“What’s up, JoJo?”
“Promise me you’ll try.”
I purse my glossy lips. “I’ll do my best.”
“That’s not good enough.”
She pops out her hip, diva mode activated. “Will you just keep an open mind?”
“Not heart?” I quirk a brow.
“I don’t want my expectations to be too lofty. Your heart should already be leading the charge.”
“Always the romantic,” I fake-coo.
“One of us has to be. The faith lives on—true love exists.” She shakes her fist in the air.
“You make me sound unreasonable. I’ll admit to being jaded. I just don’t see the point in setting myself up for disappointment. We’ve both had our hearts broken so many times. I’m envious of your ability to move forward with so much hope.”
Josey sighs, her smile lopsided. “I have to.”
“Why?”
“Because if I don’t, then what? I end up single and alone forever, with a pack of cats.”
I shake my head with a laugh. “You’ll find Prince Charming. I have faith in that.”
“And so will you.” Her no-nonsense tone has me tamping down another retort.
She’ll have to believe for both of us.
Healing Hug #9: To hold off from doing something far more reckless.
Downtown is mostly deserted at this hour. Only a few places remain open past eight or nine o’clock. Stalking along Main Street isn’t part of my preferred weekend routine. Usually I’d rather be elbow-deep in the vintage Harley tucked away in my shop. Restoring that beauty has been vital in chasing the numb indifference of boredom away. But I couldn’t concentrate on that project for another silent second. I could tinker with shit from dusk until dawn. My focus never breaks, even to take a piss.
Being cooped up in my garage is how I’d usually choose to spend a Saturday evening. All I felt tonight was confinement. There’s an itch under my skin, a coiling tension that needs release. I considered going for a ride, but I’ve done that a lot lately. Going hunting in the woods piqued my interest. The weight of a rifle in my hand centers me with nature, calling to my primitive instincts. In the end, those options weren’t appealing. Only providing further isolation and distance from the underlying trouble. Stomping beyond the borders of my monotony is the solution I sought.
Decker’s advice has been rattling against my skull for days. Blending with society for a bit won’t cripple me. I’m convinced that leaving the comforting, yet restrictive, limits of my compound will ease the knots that are twisting me up inside. An almost obsessive drive propels me to prove I’m not the worthless recluse my father claims me to be. In reality, the one who truly needs to believe that is me.
The street lamp casts shadows across the sidewalk in front of me. My trek continues without pause. I don’t have a destination in mind. Sludge bubbles through my veins, but I ignore it. There’s nothing to guide me, or anyone to notice my efforts. Not that I want them to. Storefronts are pitch black and traffic is nonexistent. Aimless wandering through the dark is more of my style, better intentions be damned, so this suits me fine.
I reach the next block and find a crack in the sleepy ruse. Pounding bass and flashing strobe lights spill out into the languid tranquility I’ve been appreciating. Without moving another step forward, I know the establishment responsible for causing a disturbance of that magnitude. Bronco Buck is one of the few bars in Silo Springs and by far the most popular. This place caters to the partying lifestyle, especially with women. I’ll never understand the interest or desire to stumble through those brightly painted doors.
There’s no hesitation in my stride as I pass in front of the rowdy establishment. That plan is solid until something glints off the window, nearly blinding me. Against my better judgment, I squint and peer into the chaos. What I find almost drops me to my knees. Keegan is inside, smack dab in the center of my waking nightmare.
Regardless of my previous resistance, I remain motionless in front of this awful club, caught in her web. If she’s a flame, I’ll gladly sacrifice myself as a moth. Her arms lift while she spins in rapid circles, full of energy and zero inhibitions. Has she been drinking? Or is she always so carefree? The demand to find out flexes every muscle in my body, pumping white-hot lust through each throbbing vessel.
When she twirls again, a kaleidoscope of rainbow reflections sparkle off her. Her outfit is gaudy as fuck. If she’s trying t
o gain attention wearing that, her purpose can be deemed successful. Gawkers are gathering at an inhumane rate, proving I’m not the only one noticing Keegan’s bold display. An animalistic roar drums into my ears. All rational thought is captured by the sight of her, sweeping away with the wind. Untapped need so potent crashes into me, leaving only the desire to claim standing.
Damn, I guess hunting is on tonight’s menu after all.
I give my outfit a rushed appraisal. Faded jeans and a plain, white T-shirt are my standard. No visible stains in sight. It was appropriate for this venture, until now. Will I stick out worse than usual? Do I care? Not even a single shit. I tug the brim of my hat down lower and storm toward the entrance.
The door nearly rips off its hinges with my brute force. I prowl into the belly of blatant cravings and yearning. The urge to flee threatens to deflate my surge of courage, but burning hunger pushes me harder. A putrid cloud of sweat and artificial smoke greets me. Bronco Buck is the definition of hell for me. The space is flooded with an extra dose of everything I hate. But I long to be near Keegan more than I want to be comfortable.
This place has to be pushing maximum capacity. The actual bar is crowded with drunk assholes tossing out money for another round. Hip-hop music is cranked so loud the booming beat vibrates off my ribs. I assume the speakers will blow any minute. Stale heat clings in the dry air, giving my skin an immediate sheen. A dizzying array of flashing lights streak across the ceiling and walls. Gyrating bodies pack the dance floor, but I’m only drawn to one.
My boots are already covering the distance separating us before I can comprehend striding across the sticky ground. There’s too much noise, but I can see the outline of her glittering curves just fine, her rhythm so liquid a wave should be jealous. Swaying hips that follow a far more sensual beat than the song playing. This woman is enchanting, and I’m cast under her hex. I erase the remaining feet that dare to keep us apart. Coconut, fresh flowers, and ocean breeze assault my senses—my very own strip of tropical paradise right here in Silo Springs. The temperature spikes, sending tendrils of fire straight to my groin. I reach out and clasp her hip in a bold grip, guiding her to the edge of the fray. Keegan startles against me, whipping around to see who’s man-handling her.
“Ford?” Her eyes blow wide open.
I lean down, my mouth to her ear. “You look surprised to see me.”
“Because I am.” Her lips brush the stubble on my cheek. “But even more shocked you’re voluntarily talking to me.”
“It didn’t feel like a choice.” I squeeze her waist, relinquish my hold, and straighten so we’re facing one another. In this position, we’re forced to over-enunciate and shout. Two more reasons why Bronco Buck is the worst.
Keegan scrunches her forehead. “Am I supposed to know what that means?”
That I’m being a fucking weirdo? Probably not. “Just seemed necessary.”
“Okay? That’s…cryptic.” Flashing lights paint her face, bathing her in neon hues. “What’s up, Ford? This doesn’t seem like your scene.”
“It’s not. How about you?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but it isn’t my favorite. Anymore,” she adds as an almost afterthought.
“Why now?” I rub at the dryness spreading in my throat. Between the smoke and having to nearly shout, I’ll be hoarse tomorrow.
“Girls’ night out.”
“With who?”
Keegan points over my shoulder. I turn to see a familiar face watching us with laser focus. Josey grew up in this town, just like me. A big difference is she continues to be part of normal civilization. I haven’t seen her since we graduated high school. She waves at me, and I give a nod in return.
Like a magnet, my gaze swings back to Keegan. That pull won’t quit, thrumming from the very core of me. I can’t draw a decent breath with her this close. All I want is to drag her into me so we can get lost together.
“Of course, you know Josey.” She fans her face, oblivious to my internal struggle.
I focus on what’s important. “Hot?”
“Sweltering,” she corrects.
Hauling her out of here would easily solve that problem. I curl my hands into fists to remove temptation. Flames lick my body, but for an entirely different reason. Is she feeling this torture?
“Why are you staring at me?”
Because I want to be buried eight inches deep inside of her. Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to have her molten center clenching around me. And now I’m harder than steel. My dick twitches, more than willing to show off for Keegan. Dammit. She brings out the worst in me, or maybe it’s the best. I blink, clearing the fog from my mind. “Uh, what?”
She wrinkles her nose. “Are you drunk?”
“Completely sober. You?” I want to cup her cheek, tipping up until our lips meet. Would she let me?
She rocks a hand back and forth. “Eh, I’ve had a few. But I’m perfectly coherent. Don’t go thinking you can take advantage.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” I swallow, trying to soothe the ache. “Can we go somewhere quiet? Between the yelling and sorry excuse for music, my brain is ringing.”
“Why would we do that?” Her smile is coy.
“To talk.”
“About?”
I suck air through my teeth. “Whatever we want.”
She toys with a lock of golden hair. I imagine weaving those blonde strands through my fingers, pinning her against me while I sink to the hilt. “I have a few ideas.”
Her suggestion drips with seduction, and I’m far enough under to drown. “There’s a trash room out back.”
Keegan sputters. “That’s the first place you think of to take me?”
I hook my thumb in a belt loop. “I’m sure it’ll be private.”
She’s still gaping at me. “Only because no one wants to be in there longer than necessary. I’m sure it smells worse than rotting ass. Gross, Ford.”
I grind my teeth. I’m so bad at this. “And where would you prefer to go?”
She scoffs. “Oh, I don’t know. How about the alley in general?”
“People might see us.”
Her eyes narrow into slits. “Are you ashamed to be seen with me?”
I swipe at the brim of my hat. “Nah, quite the opposite. I’m sure you don’t want rumors spread around town that we’re alone in a dark alcove.”
She swats at the air. “Let them gossip.”
I swing an arm toward the rear exit. “After you, lady.”
Keegan pokes a finger at my chest. “You better mean that in a genuine way.”
“Can that be considered an insult?”
“You’d be surprised,” she says and starts walking.
I follow behind, a loyal hound snarling at any guy who risks a glance at Keegan’s ass. Not that I can blame them. My gaze has barely strayed from those twin globes since she set off toward the door. But what claim do I really have? Or want, for that matter. This conversation could swirl the drain faster than I can suggest anything pleasurable. I have no idea what I’m doing here. She begins accentuating the swing of her hips, the colorful array of rhinestones winking at me, and I push my questions aside. I’ll worry about fucking up when the time comes.
We enter the alley with a clang of metal against brick. The cool air is an instant relief, whispering along my balmy skin like a siren song. My reprieve from the heat has a very short shelf life. Keegan spins on me, that same finger jabbing at me again.
“I almost forgot,” she quips. “I’m mad at you.”
“Why? What the hell did I do?”
She crosses her arms, giving me a generous visual of ample cleavage. “What didn’t you do?”
That’s fair. My list of crimes is quite long from the few instances we’ve previously clashed. But there’s no sense giving her all of that ammunition. “Tell me why you’re pissed.”
Another stab to my chest. “You’re turning my daughter against me. All she wants to do is visit your garage. I can’t
get a moment’s peace.”
“Really? Huh. That’s cute.” The ice around my heart chips ever so slightly. I rub at the sting.
“Sure is, except we”—she motions between us—“don’t get along.”
“Maybe we can change that.”
She huffs out an indignant exhale. “I was willing to be nice. You weren’t.”
There’s no way I can argue that. I lift my cap, adjusting it to rest higher. Keegan should see how fucking serious I am. “I don’t want to fight.”
“Oh? Since when?”
I move forward, towering into her personal space. “Now.”
Her breath hitches. Yeah, she’s with me. “You’re very chatty all of a sudden.”
I scowl. “Talking isn’t my issue. It’s the people I don’t like.”
“Yet you stomped into a packed bar without issue.”
“Fuck that. There are plenty of problems with this situation. You don’t happen to be one of them.”
An easy grin softens her features. “Wow, that’s almost nice.”
I glare at the brick wall behind her. “Don’t get used to it.”
She tenses, squaring her shoulders. “All right, Ford. So, you randomly appeared. Again. What are you saving me from this time?”
I sigh. “Me.”
“That’s a contradiction.”
“Tell me how.” We’re close enough to touch. Every impulse I have bellows at me to reach out. But she needs to be the one. I’m not willing to push that far.
“You’re a different man tonight,” she muses. “Very…engaging.”
“Do you mean annoying? Appalling? Awful?”
Keegan laughs. “No, more like interesting. In a good way.”
That sounds promising, but unbelievable. “You’d be the only one who thinks so.”
She hums. “Well, good thing we aren’t worrying about others.”
Is she for real? If she’s yanking my chain, I’ll be an easy target. I let my gaze trail along her enticing figure. “That dress was made for you.”
“Are you being sarcastic?”
“Nope. It’s very…tempting. Like dessert after a full meal.”